


The Christmas Plate

by captainamergirl



Series: That's Christmas to Me [2]
Category: Another World (TV), General Hospital
Genre: Admit it- they'd be hot together!, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Tyrone plays a trick on Sam, newlyweds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25376197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainamergirl/pseuds/captainamergirl
Summary: Tyrone plays a trick on his new wife, Sam. {Just a little domestic fluff to get you through these tragic times.}
Relationships: Tyrone Montgomery/Samantha "Sam" McCall
Series: That's Christmas to Me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837660





	The Christmas Plate

**The Christmas Plate**  
  
“Mmm, that feels nice,” Sam murmurs as he comes up behind her, presses himself to her backside, tangles his fingers in the soft waves of her silky hair, and begins to make love to her neck. She sets down the silverware she’s supposed to be polishing and gives over to the sensations his mouth invokes in her.  
  
“Just nice?” Tyrone’s lips move down the lean column of her throat. “I must be doing something wrong.”  
  
“Oh no, you’re not,” she replies, “you’re doing it just right. Mmmm so right…” She moans as he nips her skin ever so carefully. “Ty, you’re driving me crazy.”  
  
“That’s the idea.”  
  
“But…”  
  
“But?”  
  
“Your aunt entrusted me with cleaning her good silver since you know, I can’t cook for shit. I really need to get working on these pieces before she comes back in here.”  
  
“She’s out there gossiping with her church friends. She’ll be busy for hours.”  
  
“Still…”  
  
“Do you really want me to stop?” He nibbles her right earlobe.  
  
“No, but -”  
  
“Buts are no good, Sam. Unless we’re talking about butts with double T’s.”  
  
Sam smirks and pivots slowly in his arms, grabbing him by the front of his white button-down shirt. “Okay, we can make out for like, two minutes, and then it’s back to work for the both of us. The silver won’t polish itself and you’re supposed to be setting the table, if I remember right.”  
  
“Everyone’s gotta take a break sometime.”  
  
“Two minutes…”  
  
“We’re newlyweds. People expect us to get a little frisky from time to time.”  
  
“One minute and forty eight seconds… Do you want to keep talking or should we get busy?”  
  
“Mmm, I’ll choose option two.” He picks her up and she laughs as he settles her onto the counter. She spreads her legs wide and he steps between them. Her hands find his stubbly cheeks while his palms come to settle on the curve of her tiny waist.  
  
She leans into him, pressing her full breasts against his chest. He lets out a low growl. He is a breast man. And an ass man. And most importantly, he’s Sam’s man. _For keeps._ No one has ever loved her the way he does and it doesn’t matter that they’ve only known each other for less than five months because they belong together.  
  
They kiss passionately. His tongue slides against hers, exploring the contours of her mouth. She nips his plump bottom lip as her arms slide about his neck. She holds onto him tightly, never wanting to let go.  
  
“Sam, are you done in there?” Bessie suddenly calls out.  
  
“I’m not,” Tyrone sighs against her mouth.  
  
“Almost, Aunt Bessie!” Sam replies. She looks at her husband. “Time’s up.”  
  
Tyrone groans in frustration as Sam starts to disentangle from his embrace. She swings her legs to the side as Tyrone tugs her back towards him. She laughs and tries to wriggle free.  
  
A tremendous crash! suddenly reverberates through the kitchen. “Oh shit!” Sam shrieks in horror as she looks down and sees the remains of a shattered ceramic plate. Shards - about a hundred of them - are scattered across the linoleum floor.  
  
“Oh shit!” She says again. She looks at Tyrone in horror. “Ohmigod, look what you did!”  
  
“Me? You’re the one who kicked it over.”  
  
“Okay, does it matter? The point is we just broke your aunt’s plate... It’s not special or anything... is it?”  
  
Tyrone shrugs. “It’s only been in the family for three generations; I mean it’s not _that_ special.”  
  
“Oh god. Oh god! She’s going to kill me!” Sam worries her bottom lip between her teeth. “What should I do?”  
  
“What can you do? It’s not like it’s replaceable.”  
  
“Maybe if we get some superglue, we could try to paste it back together at least.”  
  
“Sam, there are too many pieces.”  
  
“Oh Jesus. Oh God. I was trying so hard to impress her too. Why the hell did you distract me?”  
  
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll understand.”  
  
“You think she’ll understand that we broke her plate dry humping on her sleek kitchen counter?” Sam panics, dropping to the floor and trying to scoop up the pieces of the plate.  
  
“Sam, what _are_ you doing?” Bessie’s voice comes from the door.  
  
Sam freezes in place. “Uh, I …” She sighs. She was a con by trade. She should be able to come up with a great lie, but right then, she can’t think of a single excuse worth a damn thing. Bessie will see right through her in that uncanny way of hers.  
  
“Bessie, I’m sorry,” she blurts out. “I was clumsy … I broke your family heirloom.”  
  
“What are you talking about?”  
  
Sam scoots aside so Bessie can see the mess on the floor. “I’m sorry. I know it’s been in the family for generations and -”  
  
“Samantha, calm down. Are you saying that plate has been in our family for generations?”  
  
“That’s what Tyrone told me, yes.”  
  
Bessie shakes her head. “Honey, that nephew of mine is pulling your leg. That plate hasn’t been in my family for even one whole week. I picked it up on sale at Target a few days ago. Paid less than five dollars for it.”  
  
 _“Seriously?”_  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Bessie slips out of the kitchen as Sam whirls around to face Tyrone. He’s trying to hide a giant smile behind his brown hands. Sam glares at him and smacks him on the arm as hard as she can.  
  
“Hey now,” he says.  
  
“You big jerk! You really had me going there.”  
  
“I am sorry, but it was just a joke. No harm done.”  
  
Sam glares at him. She grabs the broom and dustpan from behind the fridge and shoves it at him. “You can clean this up.”  
  
“Sam-”  
  
“Clean it up, Tyrone, or you’ll be taking a helluva lot of cold showers from here on out.”  
  
His face pales a bit. “Are we having our first fight?”  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“Surely you’re not going to punish me for a harmless little joke?”  
  
“It wasn't harmless. You know how hard I’ve been trying to impress Bessie, and your friends and the rest of your family. I want them to like me and here you had me thinking I had messed up bigtime again and ruined everything.”  
  
Tyrone takes the broom from her. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Honestly, I mean that. That was completely thoughtless of me. Tell me how to make it up to you.”  
  
Sam studies his handsome face. He is genuinely contrite; she can see it in the curve of his lips and the storminess of his dark eyes.  
  
“Okay, clean up the mess, polish the silverware until it’s blindingly shiny, kiss me again and we’re good.”  
  
He smiles, looking relieved. “Can I start with the kiss first?”  
  
Sam moves away. “Nope. You gotta earn it, buddy.” She then waggles her fingers at him and slips out of the kitchen. He smiles in spite of himself and goes to work sweeping up what’s left of the fabled Christmas plate.


End file.
